


The Dating Game

by NellieOleson



Series: Catherine Langford knows everything. [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NellieOleson/pseuds/NellieOleson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This started as a comment fic when mrspollifax decided that Catherine Langford had been instrumental in getting AU Sam/Jack together in There But For The Grace of God.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dating Game

The first few months were the hardest. Even though she’d been raised in a military family, Sam had a hard time relating to the atmosphere in the SGA. They wasted so much time keeping up appearances and dancing around rank structure. It made her want to scream. Sometimes she wondered if that’s why her and Catherine were there. To get things done without the chains of military politics holding them back. 

Catherine had taken her under her wing the day she’d arrived. Showing her around, teaching her the ins and outs of how a military base was run. Everybody respected Catherine and her endorsement had gone a long way towards easing Sam into her job without ruffling any BDUs. 

When she’d introduced Sam to General O’Neill, it was clear Catherine had a special fondness for him. It took Sam weeks to figure out why. He’d been so closed off and imposing, she couldn’t imagine how anyone could find anything likeable about him. She thought maybe he could be cute if he didn’t always look like he wanted to kill someone, but that was it.

The longer she worked with him, the more she caught glimpses of the actual person who might be hiding under the gruff military shell. The way his voice softened when it was just the two of them, and how he actually listened to what she was saying during briefings. Most people grew impatient with her explanations, or pretended to understand what she was saying instead of asking for clarification. Sometimes he even approached her afterwards, and she’d go over certain things until she was sure he understood. 

So he’d grown on her over time, but not enough that she wasn’t skeptical when Catherine pointed out that he’d been spending an awful lot of time getting caught up on the science of the stargate. Sam had never gotten the feeling that his interest was anything more than what it seemed, but Catherine was unconvinced. “Sam,” she said. “I’ve known Jack O’Neill a long time and he’s never spent any more time than absolutely necessary with any of the civilians. Especially the scientists. I think you should have dinner with him.” 

Sam tried to remember if there were any civilians on base who weren’t scientists. Not that it made any difference. “I don’t know, Catherine. He’s really not my type.” 

Catherine had all the force of a woman who’d navigated her way through a man’s career before it was an acceptable thing to do. Sam didn’t really stand a chance. “Humor me,” she said. 

 

*******

 

Asking him out was more of an accident than anything else. 

Sam spent more time observing Jack once Catherine put the idea into her head. He was subtle and the signs were easy to miss, but Catherine was right, he really did seem to be making excuses to talk shop with her. Against her better judgement, she found herself looking forward spending time with him. Especially when they were alone because he could still be a bit of an ass when other people were around.

She was working late like she had a habit of doing when she accidentally invited him to have dinner with her. It was close to midnight, and she was surprised to run into him at the elevator. She’d always assumed everyone else had better things to do. The doors were sliding shut when she saw him in the corridor. She stuck her arm out and the doors bounced back, giving him time to catch a ride. 

“Thanks,” he said. The elevators were old and slow; nobody like to wait on an almost-made-it trip to the surface. “Headed home?”

“Actually, I was going to try and find something decent to eat.” At this hour it wouldn’t be anything good, but she was willing to slum it for one meal. 

He tipped his head, considering his response. “Alone?” And okay, maybe he wasn’t so subtle.

It was late and she was hungry, that was probably why she answered the way she did. At least that’s what she told herself later. “Unless you’re going to follow me.”

“Okay.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well.” There was just no good way to recover from that. Sam had never been good at conversational tap-dancing.

“I mean, I don’t have to. If you want to eat alone.”

“No, I’d appreciate the company.” That wasn’t true at all. She liked to eat alone. Besides, what would they talk about outside of work? 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she lied. Sometimes she wished she was a meaner person.

There was only one place open at that hour. An all night diner that catered to the 2:00AM bar crowds. It was still pretty empty when they pulled in. She figured they had a couple of hours before the hungry drunk people showed up. She didn’t intend to be there for that.

It didn’t really feel like a date at first, but by the time they left she kind of wanted to hold his hand and make plans for better dates. Catherine was going to love hearing all about it in the morning.

He walked her to her car, and she felt like she was sixteen again. Sixteen and dating an older boy. One that her dad might actually approve of. They lingered there, and Sam thought that if it wasn’t already past a decent hour, she would have considered inviting him to her house. For what, she didn’t know. The only entertainment she had was an old tv with no cable. 

“So,” she said when the silence had dragged on too long. “That was fun.”

“It was. I usually hate first dates.”

She dropped her head and stared at her shoes for a moment. Because first dates. She liked the sound of that. “Yeah. I know what you mean,” she said. And then because she just had to know. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he said. “But is there really something I know that you don’t?”

“Were you just pretending to not understand things so you could spend time with me?”

He smiled at her instead of answering and shit, he really was cute. How had she missed that before? She hadn’t been lying when she told Catherine he wasn’t her type, because she had one, and he wasn’t it. Maybe her ‘type’ had been forced on her by the academic circles she normally ran in.

The first rowdy bits of the late-night crew were stumbling through the parking lot when Sam slid her hand around the back of his neck and kissed him before the opportunity could slip away. He might have been surprised, she couldn’t tell. He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her back, and Sam wished they were someplace more private.

He put his hands low on her waist, and she leaned against his chest. “I don’t normally do that,” she admitted. 

“Don’t worry,” he said. “It happens to me all the time.”

Sam was pretty sure he was lying, but maybe she could change that.

 

*******

Their second date was a little more formal and a lot less enjoyable.

It started out okay, because sometimes the previews were better than the actual movie. Jack showed up at her house exactly five minutes early like she knew he would. Her father was the same way; if he wasn’t five minutes early, he was late. Sam made a point of being ten minutes late whenever she could. 

She grabbed a light jacket while Jack stood outside like there was a force field in her doorway. Nervousness was such an odd thing to see on his face. She wouldn’t have thought him capable of it. 

She’d always had a thing for big trucks--if not the jackasses that were usually behind the wheel. She didn’t like to drive them, but they sure were fun to ride in. Something about the height and the loose suspension reminded her of summer carnivals and childhood. She played with the radio while he drove, and they compared notes on the worst food they’d ever eaten on base. Every now and then, he’d reach over and take her hand like they’d been doing this for years. 

The drive to the restaurant turned out to be the highlight of the evening.

It was a nice restaurant. She’d been there with Catherine once, ordering more than she could eat and living off the leftovers for three days. 

The appetizers came with a side of interrupting phone call. 

He glanced at the screen. “I have to take this,” he said. He drew a little circle in the air. Something work related, it said. Something non-technical her non-ringing phone clarified. 

Sam didn’t really have a good handle on what Jack did as General O’Neill. They had enemies that needed to be killed. She understood that, just not well enough that she could come up with a plausible emergency situation that would require his expertise and not hers. Her mind always blamed things on technology.

He excused himself and headed for the door. Whatever he needed to discuss was too complicated for tangled euphemisms. She watched him go, wanting to be angry but not having the luxury. It was just part of the job.

Sam drank too much wine and picked at the artichoke dip until it got cold. 

*****

He finally came back, apologetic and angry. It was a weird mix and she wasn’t sure where his anger was directed. He threw some cash on the table and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. It was a nice jacket. The kind of leather, aviator thing that had been popular when she was in high school. She hadn’t cared for the type of boys who’d worn them when she was seventeen. It was different somehow when it was an actual aviator wearing the jacket. Someone who’d earned the right.

She blinked and shook her head, amazed that fermented grapes had the power to fuel such deep thoughts about a piece of cowhide. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. Their server had made his way back to the table, looking like this was an entirely new situation for him. Jack spared him a glance. “Work emergency. You know how it is.”

The server nodded and smiled like he did know how it was. “No problem, sir.” He couldn’t have been much more than eighteen. Sam wondered what his idea of a work emergency was: a broken ice machine, a pie shortage.

Jack drove too fast on the way back to her house and walked her to the door even though it was clear he was pressed for time. Sam hoped nobody was going to die over those extra few minutes. 

She couldn’t see him well enough to make out his expression, but his hand on her arm felt like an apology. “That was the worst date ever.”

“It really was,” she agreed. She wondered how many relationships his job had cost him over the years. At least Sam had the advantage of knowing what he did for a living.

“Maybe next time will be better,” he said. His tone was full of reserved optimism like he was expecting her to announce that there would never, ever be a next time. 

It wasn’t what she wanted to leave him with, because as far as she was concerned, there should be lots of next times. She stepped closer to him, and he put a warm hand on her cheek. 

His interrupting phone called out from his pocket again, more insistent than the last time.

“Oh fer--” He pulled the phone out, answered it and yelled into the speaker. “I’m on my way.”

 

*****

 

She was still in her pajamas, nursing a slight hangover, when he showed up at her door.

Her pajamas didn’t consist of much and he kept trying not to let his eyes drop while he spoke. It was oddly attractive and Sam was glad she’d left her robe in the bedroom. “I thought we could go for breakfast,” he said. 

She really didn’t feel like leaving the house. There was a pot of freshly brewed coffee and a whole loaf of toastable bread waiting for her in the kitchen. Jack took a step back. Her decision must have been on her face before she said anything. She watched, fascinated, as his expression shifted to the one he wore at work. The one that kept people from getting too close. 

She grabbed his hand before he put up any more walls. “I have coffee,” she said. She tugged on his fingers so he couldn’t run away. “And I’m willing to share.”

It wasn’t the best invitation but it’s enough to get him through the force field and into her kitchen.

They stayed in the kitchen, sitting side by side at the island. It wasn’t as comfortable as the couch in the living room but maybe that was the point. Two pots of coffee and half a loaf of toast into his visit, their conversation took an odd turn. Her family was a dysfunctional sore spot in her life. 

“My father’s in the Air Force,” she told him even though she was sure he already knew. There were a lot of background checks involved in her job. Mostly she just wanted to test the subject out on him. “He spent most of my life trying to convince me to join.” She kept talking about herself, finally warming up to the topic. “I didn’t want to be anything like him,” she said and then she laughed. “Now here I am. Knee deep in the lifestyle I’ve resented since I was a kid.”

He put his half-eaten piece of toast back on his plate and stared at it. “Oh.” 

Sam shook her head; there was a point she was trying to make and he was missing it. She bumped his knee with her own. “I like you,” she told him.

Jack looked at her, again with the cautious optimism that made her wonder what in his life had left him so jaded. “Well, that’s good. Right?”

“I still don’t like the military.”

“That’s okay,” he said.”I don’t like scientists.” 

His sense of humor always came a surprise to her. The majority of the time they spent together was work-related and his jokes didn’t seem to survive under the weight of the mountain. She laughed and he smiled back at her. “And yet, here we are.”

“Here we are,” he agreed and his hand was on her thigh now. 

She swiveled on her chair so she could look at him. His eyes were so dark. “It’s all Catherine’s fault.” She was still staring at his eyes so she noticed the confusion immediately. He had no idea how Catherine had found her way into the conversation. “She said I should ask you out.”

“Well,” he said. He leaned closer and Sam couldn’t see his eyes anymore, but she could feel his breath on her neck when he whispered in her ear. “Catherine is pretty smart.”

He stood up and stepped into the space between her knees. Catherine was a fucking genius, Sam thought while he kissed his way down her neck. Maybe the uncomfortable kitchen stools weren’t as much of a deterrent as she thought they would be. 

His hands were working their way up the back of her shirt when the phone rang. She jumped and her forehead hit him in the nose. It was her phone this time, and Sam wanted to toss it down the garbage disposal. 

She kept one hand in his back pocket while she flipped the phone open. “It’s the SGA,” she said. There was nothing she was cleared for that he wasn’t, so she didn’t have to censor her conversation. Not that it mattered; Catherine didn’t really give her a chance to say anything. Sam just listened while Catherine fed her enough information to start working on a solution. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Jack’s phone started ringing a moment later, and Sam ran off to find more suitable clothes while he was distracted. 

She let Jack drive her to the mountain knowing he’d have to come back when the crisis was over. It was one of her better ideas. Catherine would have been proud.


End file.
